THE SPIRIT OF SANCTUARY
by Pam Montgomery

Many years ago the north-facing slope of Marble Mountain was covered with
Ginseng. I discovered this about the mountain I live at the base of after
meeting an old timer who, in the past, hunted the Ginseng. He told me, with
his distinctive Vermont accent, that years ago he would go “sanging”
in the mountains. I thought it was so sweet that he would go and sing in
the mountains and said so to him. He laughed and said, “No, sanging,
you know Ginsenging.” He said the mountain once was covered with the
plants that produced the “old man root”.

Today there is one plant of Ginseng, which I know of, on the entire mountain.
Ginseng, whose essence is of longevity and wild vitality, no longer roams
this mountain in great numbers. The remaining Ginseng is but a shadow of
the grand tribe that once flourished here and yet, the echo of this survivor
rings with the possibility of the vibrancy that once flourished here. To
lose the essence of Ginseng in these mountains would diminish the vitality
of not only the land but the people who walk this land. Could the loss of
Ginseng in so many of the northeastern woods have contributed to massive
chronic fatigue in the human inhabitants? Could it be that the essence of
Ginseng is necessary for our vital existence, to feed the flame of our spirit
that keeps us alive? When contemplating these questions, providing sanctuary
for these survivors, whoever they may be becomes not only important but
imperative.

Sanctuary has a two-fold role to play for
our native plant brothers and sisters. First, it is a refuge, a place that
is safe from molestation. Plants that are in sanctuary know they are being
kept safe with life-giving intent. This knowledge by the plants brings about
a heightened level of positive response to those who care for and enjoy
the sanctuary. Cleve Backster’s ground-breaking work with plants clearly
shows that plants respond to the people that engage with them. By attaching
polygraph electrodes to plant leaves Backster showed that plants respond
to the mere intent of doing harm to them. Likewise, during a business trip,
when Backster had the first thought of returning home, the plants in his
office responded positively to this knowledge.

The second role of a sanctuary is that of sacred space
where the “Holy of Holies” exists and communion is shared. When
a botanical sanctuary is seen in this light it becomes a living church/temple
where communication with the spirit of plants occurs. The loving intent
of creating a sacred and safe place for native plants causes plants to respond
with equal, if not more, loving vibrations. Within a sanctuary one experiences
relaxation, peace, vitality and a 0ver-all sense of well-being. Here the
common union between plants and people – breath - can be intentionally
shared. The exchange of “greenbreath” with plants in a sanctuary,
where one is placed in the fold of intentional sacred space with plants
responding to safety and care, is a primary experience that brings profound
healing. Our hearts open wide as the prana of “greenbreath”
carries the vital essence held to give life, otherwise known as spirit.
In this open-heart space we move into syncopation with the rhythm of Earth
taking our place in the vast web of life as a co-creative partner. Botanical
sanctuaries not only save our precious native plants from unconscious predation
they provide healing at a source level by feeding our essential nature so
that both plants and people are held in life-giving balance.